All I Ever Needed
by Bambi Birthday
Summary: This is a story of a depressed Canada. Russia figures out whats going on and tries to help. Rated for cutting, atempted suicide, and other themes of the sort. Possible yaoi, though not sure yet... Written by Sasame. Fail summary.
1. Chapter 1

Matthew Williams silently watched the others in the meeting hall. They were debating over global warming, again. He had given up trying to voice his opinion, no one heard him, saw him, paid attention to him, anything. Either that or they just didn't care. Both ideas hurt. You would think after putting up with it for so long it wouldn't bother him anymore, but it was the opposite actually. Every time he approached his brother, Alfred, or his father, Francis, and they asked him who he was, it killed him a little more inside. The pain only increasing over time until it became unbearable. He didn't even need to act like it didn't bother him, because as soon as he was out of sight, he was out of mind. More blatantly put they would forget about him again, and he once more became invisible. Yes, sometimes Matthew would wallow in self pity, but mostly he kept his emotions bottled up. This usually led to massive explosions where he'd cry for hours. However no one was ever there to comfort him. On many occasions he had contemplated suicide. If he died, no one would miss him, they wouldn't remember him anyway. He would simply disappear, and the thought of "Matthew Williams" would never again cross their minds.

He wondered what would happen if he just left. Would anyone notice the disappearance of the second largest nation? Probably not. With a sigh, he took one last glance around then got up and left,

Not really paying attention, he wandered into adjacent rooms connected to the same hallway as the meeting room. Finally he picked a suitable one. It was small, with a petite table and a few overly stuffed armchairs. He thought a moment, wondering why there would be a room like this in the meeting center of the nations, seeing as really, only the meeting room was used. Then smiled to himself. It was unnoticed, small, insignificant, forgettable. Just like him.

Setting down lightly, he relaxed into the chair. Smiling slightly and closing his eyes , he reached into his pocket, gingerly wrapping his fingers around the razor blade hidden inside. Yes. Matthew cut. He found that it helped ease some of the pain he felt emotionally. It numbed down his feelings, and for that he was grateful.

He brought the sharp piece of metal out of his pocket and placing against the skin on the inside of his arm. Wincing only slightly at the cold bite as it sliced through the soft flesh. Then again. He wasn't one to take it too far, just enough to settle the tumultuous emotions rushing around in his brain like a someone one crack. Watching as the small trickles of blood ran down his forearm, he wondered if he should bandage it, so as not to stain the cloth of the chair.

Sighing heavily, he stood and quickly made his way to the bathroom so he could dress the cuts. When he finished that, he wiped away the few drops of blood that had fallen, not leaving a trace of what happened.

Ivan had watched as Matthew had left. Even if no one else had. He didn't really know why, but he had a soft spot for the Canadian. Maybe it was because, like himself, no one talked to Matthew. Though, in the Russians case, it was because people were scared of him. So I suppose you could say, he related to the other. Going on impulse, he decided to follow Matthew. Taking a quick look around, and seeing everyone was obsessed with the topic of global warming -which he didn't believe in. The winters in his county were as cold as ever.-he slipped out of the meeting room.

Now the Russian was faced with a dilemma. The hall outside the meeting room went in two directions with doors littering the walls, the person he was looking for could be hidden behind any. Taking a wild guess, he started entering random rooms. Until after at least ten minutes he walked into the bathroom, and there the small Canadian was.

Matthew looked up surprised, and the expression he wore worried Ivan.

"What are you doing?" Ivan asked.

"Nothing." Ivan noticed that the young man before him had answered only slightly too quickly, but still giving him away.

Ivan looked down at him a moment then said "Don't lie Matvey."

Matthew stared at him until Ivan started to get uncomfortable, then finally. "You…know my name?" his voice was a soft, disbelieving whisper.

"Da." was Ivan's simple answer.

The other looked down self consciously, wrapping one arm around himself to hold on to the other arm. As he did, he sleeve slipped up, only a fraction of an inch, but enough for Ivan to see a bit of bandage. Matthew, too, realized this and quickly jerked his sleeve back down.

"I..I need to go," his voice was still that soft whisper, but now there was the slightest tinge of panic. He tried to dart for the door, but Ivan caught him around the waist pulling the younger around so they were face to face.

"What happened?" the Russian, as gently as he could, took the others wrist, and peeled back the sleeve. The white bandage was stained with small patches of red, telling Ivan that whatever had happened, happened recently.

"N…nothing. I'm just...last night while I was cooking, my hand slipped and I cut myself.." somehow Ivan knew this was a lie, but he didn't push it. He put two and two together. Either Matthew did this to himself, or someone else was hurting him. His behavior supported both theories. However, he was leaning towards the first of the two.

"As you say, Comrade." he let go of the Canadian, who looked up at him before darting out of the bathroom.

Mathew beyond was panicked. How he had kept himself from breaking down in front of Ivan was beyond his comprehension at the moment. At this exact moment, he thought he was going to explode. He couldn't breathe. His heart was beating painfully against his chest. Yes, he had gotten away with it, but he knew Russia hadn't believed him. Why did it bother him if others knew? It wasn't as if they cared. So why did he? He couldn't answer that question. All he knew was that he'd tried to keep everyone from finding out. Being very secretive about it - not that he was asked - always wearing long sleeves, cleaning away the evidence, making sure that no one found out his secret. His darkest secret. But now Ivan had an idea about what was going on, and it wasn't just his secret anymore. The thought made his insides turn to ice, the numbness he had induced earlier washed away by a freezing flood. He shivered involuntarily.

_How long can I keep this hidden?_

He reached back into his pocket, this time not being gentle, he squeezed his hand shut over the blade inside and cherished the biting pain once again. It helped to ebb away some of the hysteria that had been building up. Silencing the screaming in his brain. His heart was still pounding, his senses still electric, like a live wire, but his mind was crystal clear, not clouded by the frantic mixture of emotions anymore.

Matthew took a deep breath, then walked out of the Conference Building, heading home.


	2. You care?

It had been almost six months since the encounter Matthew had had, and since then, Russia had made an effort at every meeting to engage him in a conversation. Often they spoke of trivial matters, and every now and then of more serious issues or reviewing the meeting and the others opinion on it. Russia even stopped by once or twice just to check up on him. In all this time, Matthew saw no sign that the Russian had any idea what was happening.  
>Now, he was on his way into the meeting hall. Upon entering, he saw that the meeting had started early, making him late. He sighed, sat down in his usual chair, and looked around taking in the scene before him; Russia wasn't there, Germany mas massaging his temples as Italy cowered behind him, Romano was yelling at Spain, America , England, and France were in an argument that seemed to be increasing in ferocity by the moment. Canada chose to focus on them, and moved closer to hear what they were yelling about.<p>

"It is mine!" France snapped at England, "I had claims on it first!"

"And it became mine when I kicked your sorry arse!" England growled.

"Dudes! Its mine! I so live right next to it! Besides I could take it from think you two any day with my hands tied!" America yelled at the two of them.

Canada felt his stomache clench up..they couldn't be talking about..? Surely they didn't..? No they couldn't.

England turned on America, "Just because the landmass in question is right above you, does not mean its yours! And seeing as you haven't beaten me yet, it is still mine!"

Canada's eyes widened slightly. They _were _talking about his home…but they had to remember it was an independent country now. His territory was none of theirs anymore. He wasn't sure whether to feel hurt or angry. He decided anger would be better, it would keep him from breaking down.

"That territory is none of yours." His voice shocked even himself. It wasn't as loud as a normal person's, but it was much louder than his usual volume. It must have shocked the other three too, because they each turned to look at him.

All was quiet for a moment before England piped up, looking irritated, "And who the bloody hell are you?"

Matthew felt like he'd been smacked, and the small amount of volume he had gained, was lost, "I..I'm Canada."

France pushed in front of a confused looking England, "You are a new country?" The Frenchman looked him up and down with a creepy smirk.

The same feeling as before; these were his parents…he was used to them forgetting him…but it never got easier.."N..no, I'm that land mass your fighting over..I've been a country for over two hundred years now.."

Again quiet, this time America broke it, "Dude, I would so know if all that space above me was a country." He said it so matter of factly..

As the words left his brothers lips, Canada felt something inside him break. A vital part of him, that nearly doubled him over in pain. But as soon as America had spoken, the fight had erupted again, and poor Canada was forgotten once again. The pain intensified tenfold as he realized this. He couldn't stay here, he had to get away. Knowing no one would take notice, he ran from the room as fast as he could as hot tears started to fall from his eyes.

He sprinted out of the building, past several people he knew couldn't see him, and almost ran into his car. He quickly got into the small, broken down thing, and tried to start it. His hands were shaking so badly however, that he couldn't get the key in. After several moments of it, he tossed the keys away, and cried broken heartedly into the steering wheel. How long he stayed like that, he had no clue, but eventually his sobs quieted, and he ran out of tears, leaving him feeling empty. He continued to sit for a few more minutes before he finally went looking for his keys.

As he walked into his house, he threw his keys and coat down, and fell onto his couch. He stared at the ceiling, and couldn't find the strength to do anything else the rest of the day, and shut any and all thoughts off. Never before had he felt this amount of despair or hopelessness. Yes, he'd battled with a growing depression for years, but it had never left him feeling this broken.

Letting out a shuddering sigh, he mustered up the strength to reach into his pocket, retrieve his razor blade, and squeeze it. The metal bit into his skin, and as a small trickled of blood ran across the palm of his hand. He switched hands, and ran the blade across the flesh on his inner arm. A comfortable numbness filled him. He let his arm fall limp, the blade falling from him grip and onto the floor. A small smile ghosted across his lips, and he let his eyes close, welcoming the oh so inviting darkness of a deep sleep.

Russia had been slightly late to the meeting, but as he was about to walk in, the door flew open, and someone streaked by. Though slightly startled the Russian regained composure quickly, and looked back for the kid, but saw nothing. He shrugged, and walked inside, not wanting to be any later even though he knew nothing would be accomplished. As he entered the meeting room, he almost wished he hadn't bothered coming at all. As usual, everything was absolute chaos. He made his way to an empty chair and sat down. All these people got on his nerves. All but one. He scanned the room for that one person, and scowled slightly when he noticed Canada wasn't here. But wait, Canada was always at the meetings..

_Something is wrong…_ and the more Russia thought about it, the more that blonde streak that had passed him on his way in looked like the Canadian in question. But why would Canada run out of a meeting like that?

Russia stood, deciding he was going to go check on the kid, He knew that the boy hurt himself, and if he was truly upset, he was probably going to do it again. In fact, that was why he had been spending so much time with the kid. As much as the Russian didn't want to admit it, he liked the kid.

Before he could reach the door however, Britain called out to him, "Russia! Come help us solve something!" The brit was standing next to France and America. Growling under his breath, Russia walked over to them.

"Da?" He tried to sound polite, but he really needed to get going..

"Tell these two who the real owner of that landmass above America is." England crossed his arms, and glared at the other two.

"Dude! It so belongs to me! I'm right under it, so It should be mine!"

"Your argument is illogical! England is above me, yet I do not own him! That land belongs to me! I claimed it first!"

"And I won it from you when I slaughtered you in that war!"

Russia stared at them.."That land belongs to none of you.." he voice had gone from fake pleasant to obviously angry.

They all looked at him, before America said, "Aw come on, you want it too?"

"No! I don't want it because that landmass is Canada!" Russia glowered at all of them.

But America was unphased, "You're like, the second person to say that. The other guy said he was Canada, but I've never heard of him before."

Russia snapped. In one quick motion, he had America pinned to the wall, and slammed the blonde nations head against it. "You are an _**idiot! **_"

The entire room froze as soon as America hit the wall, and everyone was holding their breath. Everything was still for a long moment, then Russia let go of America, and stormed out of the room.

_Idiot American. _Russia was seething. He had no doubt now that the fleeing figure had been none other than Canada, and that he was probably taking that whatever pain he felt out on himself. He drove quickly to the kid's house, and made his way briskly to the door. He knocked, and heard no movement on the other side of the door. He knocked again. Still nothing. After another failed attempt, Russia gritted his teeth, and broke the door down. With the same quick pace, he entered the house, and after taking a look around, he saw a form on the couch.

"Canada?" he moved closer, and saw that it was in fact Canada.

The boy stirred, and opened his eyes, it took him a moment to process the fact that Russia was in his house, but when he did, his eyes opened wider, and he quickly yanked his sleeve down even though he knew it was too late and that Russia had seen.

They looked at each other a moment before Russia knelt down beside the couch, and took his arm. Canada flinched, but Russia kept a firm grip on his arm.

"I understand why you would want to, but I don't condone this." Russia murmured, and pulled back the sleeve. He had known the young Canadian was cutting, but the sheer number of scars surprised him. It was if a thick blanket covered the boys arms. Usually, small injuries like these would scar for a week before vanishing for countries. This meant the Canadian had been able to inflict that many injuries to himself in just one week

Matthew was sure that Russia was going to look up at any moment, and tell him he was a hopeless, worthless, useless mess. But to his great surprise, when the Russian did look up, he enveloped him with a hug.

"I know it hurts to be alone..but you must not do this. "Russia said gently, before pulling away and looking down at him. Matthew felt the tears prick at his eyes again.

"You..you care?"

"We are friends are we not? And it was always my thoughts that a friends worry about the welfare of each other." Russia gave a small smile.

Canada nodded, "Yea.." and he, too, gave a small smile.

"Good, now let's get those cuts cleaned up."


	3. They're BackAgain

Things had gotten better. In fact, they had gotten to the point where even the bad days had been almost bearable; and when they weren't, Russia was always there to help. Canada had even started smiling again, laughing again, feeling alive again. And that's when they started again. The Nightmares.

He had fought so hard to keep them at bay, but they always returned. He didn't want to remember, but they made him. And so, he tried to avoid them the only way he knew how: by not sleeping. However, it never worked, eventually sleep always claimed him, and he was plummeted back into those terror filled memories.

"Matvey….are you listening?" Russia was shaking his shoulder, concern obvious in his violet eyes.

Matthew blinked a few times, his mind foggy, "O…oh, yea…sorry Ivan," he rubbed his eyes, "I just…zoned out." His voice came out sounding weaker than he had meant for it to, and he looked down, letting his bangs fall over his eyes. Even though he knew Russia had already seen the dark circles under his eyes, he still tried to hide them.

Russia continued to watch him for a moment more, making Matthew uncomfortable. Finally, "If there's something wrong, you know you can…"

Canada quickly stepped in, "Anyway, you were saying something?"

Again, the Russian observed him a moment before answering. "Ah…yes, I was just asking how things in your country are?"

Canada smiled, relieved Ivan wasn't pushing the subject, "You ask me that every time you see me…"

"Da, I know." They had exited the World Meeting hall, the meeting having ended a few minutes before. They walked in relative silence until the Canadian reached his car.

"Well I guess I'll see you later then," He murmured as he unlocked his car, and was about to get in when..

"Oh Matvey," a strong arm slammed the door of his car shut, and held it that way "Before you go, It seems I've left my notes, would you mind letting me borrow yours?" there was something about Russia's voice…

"Uh…" Canada had had the hardest time just staying awake during the meeting, let alone pay attention… "I didn't take any."

Russia was quiet, and Canada thought he saw a flash in his eyes, but he couldn't be sure. Then the large man in front of him simply smiled, "That's ok! Nothing important really happened anyway! I will see you later, Da?" And with that he walked away, the crisp, early winter wind blowing small snow flurries and his scarf around him as he went. Canada stood, looking after him for a moment, before getting in his car, and going home.

As Canada walked into, or rather stumbled into, his house, he could feel exhaustion threatening to take over. He wouldn't, couldn't let it win. He had fought sleep off for almost six days, and today would not be the day he let it take him; the only problem was, he could barely keep his eyes open.

He didn't have the energy to go any farther than his living room, so he slumped on the couch.

"Tv…I'll just watch tv…" he reached for the remote, and clicked on his television, "Ah… basketball…not exactly hockey, but good enough…" he tried to focus on the game, but the edges of his vision became blurry. And slowly, slowly, his eyes closed.

_Footsteps. That was the first thing that alerted young Matthew. He stopped scribbling in his notebook, and listened. The footsteps were irregular, meaning only one thing…Arthur was drunk again. He felt a slight shudder course through him before he quickly collected up his papers, and closed his notebook. If he could just get out of the dining room before Arthur entered, things would be ok…Nothing bad would happen…_

"_Oi… who are you?" his heart stopped, and a chilling terror filled him_

_Canada slowly turned around, a very, very drunken Arthur was in front of him. "I… I'm Canada dad…" _

"_who? Why are you in my house?" The drunken brit swayed slightly, eyes hazed over, a whiskey bottle dangling from his hand…Canada looked at it wearily._

"_I… I'm your son… I live here…" Canada's gaze went from the bottle to the only escape route in the room: the door Arthur hand entered through, and tried to judge the distance between the two…maybe, just maybe if he could slip through…_

_The hazed eyes suddenly burned with red hot fury, "I only have one son! Where is Alfred?" he swayed slightly, "I needed to…" he noticed Canada again, "Alfred…I've missed you" walking over, he gently touched Canada's face._

_Shivering, Canada recoiled, "I… I'm not Alfred dad…It's just me…Matth…"he was cut off as the whiskey bottle flew past, barely missing him. And foolishly he let his gaze fall on the place where it landed instead of keeping it on the drunk in front of him…_

_Arthur growled in reply, "Don't lie to me…" he grabbed Canada's arm. The boy winced, and tried to pull away. But he grip only tightened, "I won't let you leave me again… Alfred…" his voice just barely softened on his brother's name, and somehow that made it sting all the worse. _

_Before he knew what had happened, Canada felt a stinging pain on his cheek, followed by a rough shove into the wall. He whimpered slightly and reached up to feel his face, but Arthur caught his hand and pinned it to the wall. "But by the time I'm done with you, you won't want to.~" he purred, before roughly biting the young Candian's neck. Matthew cried out._

"_P…Please! Dad don't do…" he was caught off by a swift punch to the stomach. _

"_Shut up.. You know you want this, just like you always do…"_

Canada jerked awake with a scream, before curling into ball. He shook as each heart wrenching sob escaped. Why hadn't he stopped Arthur? Why hadn't he stuck up for himself? Why hadn't anyone come to help? Why, why, why…His sobbing increased as he relived it, and all the other times it had happened over and over again.

As he lay there crying, he felt the soft warmth of fur brush against him. Looking up, there was his beloved polar bear. For a moment, it really looked like the small creature felt some kind of sympathy, like it remembered him, and wanted to bring comfort, but then the inevitable words.

"Who're you?" it tilted its head, and looked at him with expressionless eyes.

That was the final straw. "I'm Canada!' he actually screamed, but the blonde didn't even notice. He jumped off the couch, and sprinted from the house, and down the now dark streets. The snow had picked up since he'd fallen asleep that afternoon and it was still coming down; but Canada didn't care, he just had to get away. He ran faster, and faster, not paying attention to where he was going, until something caught his foot, sending him sprawling into the soft snow. At first he didn't move, just lay there, then slowly he turned on his side, and once again curled into a ball.

He stared numbly into the distance for a long while, before his senses finally kicked back in to alert him to the cold. He shivered but didn't make a move to stand, or even sit, he just kept laying there, watching the snow fall around him…

_It's so pretty…_he thought. _So pretty and…pure… _Then he felt tears prick at his eyes yet again, _that's something you'll never be…_ _no one will ever want something like you…_ and the more he thought about it, the more he realized how true it was. He was ugly, forgettable, broken, used merchandise that no one in their right minds would ever want to even try to fix up. The tears came faster then, and he curled up tighter. And he repeated the words in his head over and over.

_Ugly, _

_Forgettable,_

_Broken,_

_Used,_

Then numbness started to set in again, though this time it was due to the cold.

At the moment though, he would rather be numb, so he welcomed it with open arms. He shut his eyes and embraced the inky blackness that was creeping over him. But right before he completely slipped into that lovely oblivion, he thought he heard the tell tale crunching of snow that signaled someone approaching, but the thought didn't get too far, because the darkness overtook him.

**Ok, so sorry guys for not uploading in forever… I just haven't had time, but hopefully I'll be back for a while.  
>Annyyywwaaayyys, didn't see that coming did'ja? Yup, Abusive Arthur, I went there. Uhm but in all seriousness, I haven't really written abuse stories before other than kinda briefly implying sooo, review? Tell me if I did well or not?<strong>

**I'll definitely continue this story, but really I only have the basic plot of where I kinda want it to go, and I might change that . Ah indecision… Also, because I only have the basic plot, if you think I should add something, or you think something would work, let me know so I can contemplate it! **

**Thanks for the positive reviews I've gotten! I hope this Chapter you've all been waiting for didn't disappoint!**


	4. Author's Note

**Soo, quick author's note.**

**On the "All I ever Needed" story; looking back now, I don't think really like how chapter three went… which really got me depresses, and the inspiration for the story kinda died away. I will try to get more chapters out, but the plot I had originally intended doesn't really seem to fit any more, and so I'm not too sure where to go from here…**

**Anyway, on another subject; while writing this story, I actually came up with ideas for two new stories. The first is a FrancexCanada story. And the second will either be Russia or Prussia xCanada ( I haven't decided which I'll use yet…)**

**So, here are brief summaries of each, please tell me what you think.**

**The FrancexCanada (it will be AU): Alfred and Matthew have never had much money, but now things are starting to get really bad. Barely scraping by, Alfred decides to rake in some cash at his brother's expense. And so, young Matthew is forced into prostitution. After several bad run ins, can a now emotionally damaged Matthew be saved by the flamboyant Francis?**

**Yea, that summary sucked, but you guys get the basic gist. **

**And now for the other one: Ivan/Gil is going down a self-destructive path. Can a timid Canadian help him? Or will he be dragged down too? **

**And that's as much as I'm giving away on that one xD. **

**So anyway, If you have Ideas for the All I ever needed story, let me know cause I'm kinda out of them, and let me know what you think about the other two, and which I should start on^^ **

**Thanks everyone!**


	5. Migraines, and Promises

Sighing I rubbed my temples. It had been very, very long week. Meeting after meeting with my boss, all of them full of orders that had to be completed within the next couple of days. On top of that, today I had to be present for a world meeting that would surely get nothing accomplished and end in disaster like all the others. Yes, this had been a long week, and it was only Wednesday.

A headache was quickly developing, and I had to force myself not to strangle the overbearing blonde country that was creating it. I never could understand how things could escalate into such a mess, but it was obvious that it was always the aforementioned nations fault. At the moment he was again blathering on about a genetically enhanced super human…Americans were so stupid….

The longer I sat there, the worse the throbbing in my head got, and so, since we weren't going to get anywhere as usual, I decided to play a game where I tuned everyone out so it was almost like I'd muted a tv, and made up my own dialogue. I'll be completely honest, I do this most meetings and it never really gets old.

Looking around, I tried to find a group that would be funny with voice overs, and finally decided on China and Japan. The two of them were sitting next to each other; China happily talking a mile a minute, while Japan sat silently not paying attention to him. Hmmm…what would they be talking about…

"_I just think everything is so adorable you know? Korea is very cute! He's like a little baby! I remember when you were like that, aru! You were so cute too! I tried so hard to be a good big brother! Why don't you love me?"_

I quickly got tired of the Asian 'channel' and decided to find someone else to silently make fun of. I scanned the room for something else of interest, and stopped on Germany, Italy, Romano, and Spain. Germany had his face in his hands, Italy was happily rambling about something, Romano was yelling randomly at all three of them, and Spain was trying to control Romano. Yes, I could make this interesting…

"_Ve~! Doitsu! You look so sad! Why are you so sad Doitsu?" _

"_Don't talk to that stupid potato bastard!" _

"_Lovi, calm down! Don't you just want to go back to my place…" _

"_Get your hands off me you stupid tomato bastard!" _

It was kinda funny that as I was thinking up the dialogue, they were actually moving around as if they really were speaking it.

"_Would Doitsu feel better if I made him pasta? Everything is better with pasta!"_

"_I told you not to talk to him!" _

"_Aw come on Lovi!~"_

"_Pasta, pasta, pasta..~ Come on Doitsu! Lets go get Pasta!"_

Eh..Not as interesting as I thought. I couldn't come up with anything good today. Maybe the lack of sleep was getting to me. Still, I decided to try again, and as if on cue, America jumped onto the table and started yelling excitedly…

"_You dudes listen up! I America, the capitalist pig you all hate, have finally realized how completely idiotic I am, and decided I do not deserve to be a country any longer! No longer will I force my opinions down your throat, or take all the glory I don't deserve for myself! Instead you should all worship Russia! Because he is so much greater than I will ever be! And the cold war was all my fault! Not his!"_

I chuckled darkly as this played in my head. I knew America would never actually say something like that, but it was always fun to pretend. I turned my attention then, to France and England, who were bickering over something that was probably stupid.

"_You bloody git! How could you do this?" _

"_Mon cheri, I know you are upset, but I could not help myself.."_

"_Don't give me any of your French crap.."_

"_Angleterre. It won't happen again.."_

"_That's what you said last time! I will not stand for this!"_

"_I know I know, but how could I resist the temptation of such a lovely young thing? And she was so innocent.."_

"_How could she be innocent? You've slept with her a million times!"_

"_I guess now would be a bad tome to tell you I slept with her brother too?"_

"_Ugh! I swear! You'll do anything that moves!"_

I broke that one off. Too weird.. I looked around, hoping to find someone else, and my eyes fell on Canada. Even from this distance I could see the bags under his eyes, and how he was fighting to stay awake. I felt myself frown. Why hadn't he been sleeping?

I kept my eye on him the rest of the meeting, and when it ended, I made my way to him as quickly as I could.

"Hello Matvey."

He looked up at me, and blinked several times before answering, "H..hello Ivan.."

We started to walk down the hallway towards the exit, "How are things in Canada?" I didn't receive an answer, instead he continued walking as if he hadn't heard me.

"Matvey?" I called after him. But he just kept walking.

I reached out and took his shoulder, "Matvey, are you listening?"

He blinked several times before answering "O…oh, yea…sorry Ivan" he rubbed his eyes, "I just…zoned out…" he sounded tired, and as he talked, he let his head hang down, avoiding my eyes.

I looked him over. His usual neatly ironed clothes were slightly wrinkled, and everything about him screamed sleep deprivation. This boy worried me to no end some times. Why wouldn't he just let me help him? In the past few months he'd slowly opened up and shared a few things with me, but refused to tell me the whole story. I knew something was eating away at him, and that being forgotten wasn't the only thing that bothered him, I just didn't know what the other something was…""If there's something wrong, you know you can…"

He quickly cut me off, "Anyway, you were saying something?"

I looked at him a long moment, before deciding no to push it. Making him talk wouldn't help at all…"Ah…yes, I was just asking how things in your country are?"

A small smile ghosted across his lips, "You ask me that every time you see me…"

"Da, I know." I wanted to smack myself for not coming up with something better. Sighing inwardly, I walked beside him as we exited the building, and then went on to his car.

xXxXxXxXxXx

I was getting frustrated with the tower of unfinished paperwork in front of me. I had been working on it since I'd gotten home from the meeting nearly six hours ago, and still there was no end in sight. I reclined back in my chair and pinched the bridge of my nose. I needed a drink, and desperately. I glanced at the papers in front of me and decided they could wait for tomorrow. Stretching slightly I stood and made my way downstairs to the kitchen. As I searched through the cabinets for my cherished vodka, my thoughts shifted back to Canada… There was something definitely wrong, and it had me worried. And the more I thought about it, the worse the worry got..

_Maybe I should go check on him…_ abandoning the search, I decided I would go check on him.

The snow had picked up while I had been working, and whereas before there had only been small flurries, now it was coming down pretty hard. I didn't mind though, and as I walked, I actually relished the feeling of the biting cold. One could almost call it refreshing.

I turned down the Canadian's street, but before I was even close to his house, I saw that his door had been thrown open. A sickening feeling knotted up in my stomach, and my pace quickened as I made my way over. When I was in front of his house, I looked at it for a moment, noticing that despite the snow, faint traces of footprints were still there. I sighed… He must have run off… I shut his door, and looked around for his trail, picking it up almost instantly. Living so long in the artic did have its benefits..

I had been following the trail for a good twenty minutes when the wind picked up, and the snow started coming down even harder.

"дерьмо…" If this kept up, I'd lose the trail… then I saw a small mound in the snow. I felt a jolt of alarm, and made my way over. Kneeling down, I pushed away the snow gathered there to find an unconscious Canada..

xXxXxXxXxXx

Being a country, I knew he wouldn't have frozen to death, but still, I carried him back to my house, and was now worrying over him. I was torn between waking him up to make sure he was ok, and letting him get much needed sleep. I finally decided to let him sleep. I knew he needed it, and I could always wake him later.

I sat by the bed and just watched him. I know that sounds a little weird, but it was more to make sure he was ok than anything else. Within a couple minutes, I felt a little drowsy myself. I fought to stay awake, just because I was scared that if I did fall asleep , and he woke up, or his health took a turn for the worst, I wouldn't be able to help. But having had little sleep that week myself, and the warmth of fire I stoked up, sent me into the realm of dreams too,

I woke up with a start. I quickly looked around the room for what it might have been, but finding everything the way it had been, with the exception of the fire which had died down quite a bit, I decided that it had only been my imagination. I settled back down in my chair, and was about to drift back off when I heard it, the smallest whimper. I was up immediately, knowing it could only have come from Canada.

His cheeks were stained with tears, and he whimpered again. Grimacing, I realized what was going on. Nightmares. That must be what's keeping him up. Why hadn't I put two and two together?

I shook his shoulder gently, "Matvey.." the boy jumped and whimpered louder but didn't wake up.

"Matvey!" I shook him harder, "Wake up!" this time his eyes shot open, and he tried to bolt out of the bed. I grabbed his shoulders, and forced him back down. He started flailing and screaming. I was slightly shocked, but kept him down, afraid he'd hurt himself if I let him up, "Shhh, it's ok Matvey. Just calm down. Shhh, It's ok, you're safe.." It took a few minutes before he finally calmed down enough for me to let him go.

His eyes met mine, and he was quiet for a moment, "I'm sorry.." he whispered.

"Nyet, don't apologize… I understand how waking up from nightmares work…" again there things were quiet… "Would you like to talk about it?"

He shook his head, "Not really…" his voice was still quiet.

"Alright then… Would you like something to eat?"

Again he shook his head.

"Matvey, please, you have to eat…" he just stared off into space, "At least drink something…" still nothing… "You know… you worry me to no end… please…"

Finally. That got his attention. He looked back at me, "Fine…I'd like some tea please.."

"As you wish." I smiled softly, and left the room, returning a few minutes later with a tray of tea. I placed in on the bedside table, handed him a cup, and then took one for myself. We sipped in silence, until he turned to look at me again, "Th…thank you…for everything… I'm sorry that I'm a bother I just…."

"Matvey," I quickly cut him off, "I never said you were a bother, and don't think for a moment that you are."

He sat there for a moment before, "Please tell me you really mean that…"

"Every word Matvey."

He smiled lightly, closed his eyes, and leaned back. "I'm so tired.." he whispered, then re-opened his eyes, "But… I don't want to go to sleep…"

"Are you afraid of the nightmares?" his eyes flitted back over to me.

"Yea.."

"if you want to go to sleep, I'll stay here, and I promise if you start having a nightmare, I'll wake you up.."

A slight pause, "Promise?"

"Promise."

That small smile tugged at his lips, "Thank you…"

"Do not thank me Matvey. Now go to sleep, I know you need it."

**So, here it is! Chapter 4! Russia's POV of course. I hope you guys like it^^ R/R!**


	6. Sunflowers and Maple Saplings

My eyes flittered open to a room I'd never seen before…The walls were lined with bookshelves, full of ancient looking books. There was light streaming through a window towards my side, and I myself was surrounded by velvety red blankets. I didn't recognize any of this…where am I?...I felt my breath catch, and I started to panic. Where am I? This wasn't ok, why wasn't I at my house? WHERE AM I? that question was kept popping up. I felt a pitiful whimper escape myself. And then another. But before another one could, I felt two strong arms around me. Oh god… Who the hell was here with me? My breathing got faster and shallower as fear gripped me.

"Matvey! Matvey calm down! You're ok! Shh, you're ok.." My eyes shot open, and I was looking at the worried face of Ivan… I was confused for a moment before memories of last night floated back to me. I had run off, he had found me, I was at his house. "Matvey…are you alright?.." he was hovering slightly over me..

"I…" I couldn't think of what to say… I was still so confused… and his face was so close to mine… "Y…yea… I think so…?" ugh…why did my voice keep failing me?…

He watched me a minute more, something that seemed to be becoming a new habit for him. "Would you like some breakfast?"

I shook my head. And tried to turn over in the bed to face away from him; I didn't feel like eating, but he caught my shoulder and forced me to look at him. "Matthew. You have to eat." The tone in his voice told me there would be no arguing, so I simply looked at him. He sighed, and got off the bed. "I'll be right back," he murmured before leaving the room.

The door shut behind him with a solid _thud_. I continued to lie there, staring at the ceiling, until the sun's rays caught the spine of a book. My eyes darted over to it, and curiosity got the better of me. I stood, and shakily made my way to the shelves, and tenderly took the book from its place. It was thick, and heavy, bound with dark red leather, the lettering was gold. The pages were yellowed with age, and use.

"_Полное__собрание__сочинений__Николая__Гоголя__." _

I had no clue what it said, but the book intrigued me, so I opened it. As expected, the words were Russian, but that didn't stop me from trying to decipher their meanings. I sat in the window seat, and idly flipped through the pages. Creating a story in my head as to what they meant, though I was probably very off.

"I didn't know you could read Russian." I jumped, and nearly dropped the book as my head whipped around to see Russia standing about a foot away, tray of food in his hands, and looking at me quizzically.

"O..oh. N..no… I don't. I mean I can't. I'm sorry I shouldn't have picked it up."

"No, it's alright." He set the tray down on the bedside table, "That's one of my favorites actually. When the communist took over, they took most of my other collections, but I was able to save that one." He smiled fondly at it, and I looked down at the book in my hands too.

"It must be very special to you then?" I murmured.

"Da, it is. Would you like to know what it says?" I nodded, and he went on, "It's the complete works of Nikolai Gogol. If you'll hand me the book, I'll tell you which story it is you're 'reading'." I smiled slightly, and handed it to him. He took it, and studied the page a moment. "This is his most famous work actually." He sat down in the armchair that was also in the room. "Шинель, or The Overcoat. It's about a man who led a very simple life, and he was fine with being so common place and normal, until one day some youths made fun of his coat. He realized how ratty it had become and went to a tailor to have plans for a new one made. The tailor weaves such a beautiful picture that the main character finally looks around at how miserable his life really is. And as he waits on his coat, he starts slacking at the job he used to take so much pride in, and all he can think about is that coat. Then, when he finally gets it, he is over joyed. He wears it everywhere, until one day he's jumped and his coat stolen. In despair, he goes to the police who reprimand him for such coming to them with something so meaningless to them.."

"that's horrible…" I interrupted, "Why didn't the police care?"

Russia laughed dryly, "Well because this story is a satire. It was trying to showcase the evils of the royal family," he was quiet for a moment, "that's why this book was spared when the communists took over… this particular story isn't one of my favorites, but since much of my country's literature was destroyed, I love it…"

I looked at him for a moment, and for the first time, realized what pain the former political party must have caused him… I wanted to comfort him, like he had for me but words failed me, "Russia I.."

"Anyway, I brought you pancakes. They are your favorites if I'm not mistaken? You should eat them before they get cold, da?" he cut me off quickly, stood and went back to the tray, picking it up and setting it in front of me

"Thank you." I noticed there was only one plate, "Aren't you going to eat?" I looked at Russia who only chuckled.

"I don't much care for sweets. And I'm not particularly hungry." He waved his hand dismissively when I tried to argue, and changed the subject, "So how did you sleep, малютка?"

I was about to answer 'fine', when I realized, I really had. My sleep hadn't been marred by nightmares for the first time in a long while, "I… I slept very well.." I whispered.

"No nightmares?" though his tone was still light, I was able to pick up the slightest note of concern.

I shook my head, "None.."

Russia smiled, "That's good, da?"

I nodded and smiled back, "Yea… It's really good… Wait! What did you call me?"

This gained a genuine laugh, "It matters not. I'm just glad you were able to sleep peacefully Matvey. Now eat. I doubt you've eaten a decent meal in several days."

I felt my small smile, grow ever so slightly bigger, and took a bite of the pancakes. They weren't as warm as they could've been, but that was my own fault for not eating them sooner; other than that though, they were pretty good. As I ate, we talked of other things, most of which were just trivial matters. When I had cleaned my plate, Russia stood. "I've quite enjoyed your company, but I'm afraid I have much business that I need to get done. If you want you can come sit with me in my office, or I can show you to my library. I have a sizable collection of books in English, and a few French."

I stood, "Uhm, I would like to see the library please?"

"As you wish Matvey. This way." He walked out of the room, and led me down a maze of hallways, down what once must have been a grand staircase, and down another dizzying amount a twisted hallways, until we reached two large oak doors. Russia opened them revealing a large library with floor to ceiling shelves, all crammed with books. I felt my breath catch, and eyes widen..

"Oh wow…"

Russia smiled down at me, "I take it you like books then?"

"Yea.. I love them.." I looked up at my host, "And I'm allowed to read any of them?"

"Of course. Whatever makes you happy, малютка."

I ignored the fact that Russia had once again used a word I didn't understand, "Thank you so much!"

Russia simply nodded, "If you need me, I'll be in the room three doors down on the right."

As he started to turn away though, I grabbed his sleeve, tugging slightly. Startled, he turned back around, "What's wrong?"

"N…nothing!" I squeaked out, "I just…" I chewed on the inside of my cheeks, I wanted to say something, I just didn't know what it was… "Uhm… I just… I don't want to be alone…" Russia's eyes softened.

"Alright Matvey… why don't you find a book, and come sit in my office while I work?"

I nodded, embarrassed by what I'd said. He waited by the doors as I skimmed through the library looking for something in a language I knew, that would keep me occupied for a while. I finally just grabbed a book at random, not wanting to take too long, and headed back to Ivan. Smiling down at me, he started once again towards his office, I trailed behind him. Looking down to the book in my hands, I realized that it too was in Russian.

xXxXxXxXxXx

_A warm, gentle breeze brushed through my hair, and a contented sigh left me. Wild flowers lazily danced in the wind, and as I laid back and closed my eyes, I felt truly peaceful. I could see sunlight dancing across my eyes lids, as clouds covered and uncovers its source. I lost myself in time, and let my senses roam the pleasant meadow._

_I was so absorbed in the sound of a babbling brook somewhere off in the distance, that I didn't notice how all the other noises stopped, and how darkness had started to creep in, until it was too late, and the whole meadow was blanketed in inky blackness, except for the small sphere of light that surrounded me, and that was quickly closing in. _

_And as it closed in, my father's voice rung clearly through my head.._

"_Who are you?" "You'll never compare to your brother…" "How pathetic, stand up and quit your sniveling." "You deserved it. It's your fault I had to do this." "Shut up. You know you want this, just like you always do…" _

_The darkness had consumed all but a small dot of my once beautiful meadow, and I was about to be swallowed by the suffocating emptiness, when I heard another voice drown out the ones of my father.._

"_I understand why you would want to, but I don't condone this." "I know it hurts to be alone.. but you must not do this" "We are friends are we not?" "Shhh, You're safe.." _

_And the more of his words ran through my head, the less suffocating the darkness, and inch by inch, it left, and I was once again in my beautiful meadow. But now, there was something different. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of yellow. I turned my head to look, and saw a giant sunflower standing guard over a young maple sapling…_

_**A/N: Sooo, anyone notice the princess bride reference I threw in there? (I did it in the last one too .) Anyway, hope you liked it^^ R/R! **_


	7. Alone in the Dark

Warm sunlight danced across my face as I reclined in one of the overly stuffed armchairs in Russia's office. Over the past couple of days, we'd picked up a routine. He would wait for me to wake up, and as of yesterday I had started to follow him to the kitchen for breakfast, then I'd go to the library, pick a book, and come to his office, where I would alternately watch him work on a never ending pile of paperwork, read, and sleep. Thinking about it, it seemed boring, but the routine of it made me feel safe.

I was looking out the window at the wonderland last night's snow had caused. Everything was so crystalline, pure, and just beautiful. I felt myself smile softly and thought about all the times snow had been my only solace. And as I thought of solace, my thoughts drifted again to the dream I had had the other night. I wasn't stupid; I knew that my subconscious was telling me that Russia was the only thing keeping me sane, but then I suppose that was a given..

My eyes drifted to him, and I watched him work. His eyes downcast, looking at his papers. His hair slightly mussed from running his hands through it. His…. _Oh god… _

I quickly shut my eyes, and turned my back to him. _No. Nuh-no. No. absolutely not. _

I'd been trying to rationalize it all week. I wasn't actually in love with Russia I just couldn't be… so far my best arguments were: It's because he rescued me. You always feel attracted to someone if you view them in a hero role.. And, it's just because he's the first one who noticed me, of course that's going to make me feel all warm and fuzzy.. And finally, I'd just gone insane. All of which were totally valid…

After all, even if by some off chance it turned out there were… _feelings _there, they would never be returned. Especially if Russia found out about what happened while I lived with England… And then the words floated back…

_Ugly,_

_Forgettable,_

_Broken,_

_Used._

_**Stop it! **_The mental scream made my ears ring.

I'd actually been trying to get better. I'd actually been trying to get past it… I'd actually been trying… But as much as I tried, those thoughts would come back, each time they stung a little bit deeper, and I would want to go back to what I'd been doing before, even though I didn't actually _want _to do it… Ugh… The tumultuous whirlwinds of the mixed up, messed up, emotions continuously crashed down on me like tidal waves berating a forgotten shore, eroding it away little by little. It left me feeling dizzy, nauseous, and physical and mentally exhausted…

"Am I crazy?.." My eyes shot open, I hadn't meant to say anything, and although my voice was quiet as always, I knew he'd heard it because the _scratch scratch _of his pen stopped.

The room was quiet for a moment, and then I heard the sound of his chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it back, and the heavy thud of his boots as he walked over to me. He knelt down in front of my chair, and looked at me. I blushed at the proximity.

"Why would you ask that?... You're as sane as I am…. Ok, that probably doesn't help, but still," he smiled and I knew he'd meant it as a joke. I just looked away, and I heard him sigh.

He placed his hand on my cheek, and forced me to look at him, after a long moment, "Matvey… Why won't you ever talk to me?"

"I do talk to…"

"No, I mean other than trivial things…" another sigh, and he looked almost… helpless? No, that couldn't be… It was my turn to sigh.

"I'm sorry Russia…" I murmured, "It's just… I'm afraid… I'm afraid of what you'll think… I want to tell you, but at the same time I don't, and I just don't know what to do because everything is just so weird, and it's like my whole world has turned upside down, and it seems so surreal, and I just keep waiting to wake up and be alone again, even though I know I'm awake. And then I start to think too much, which I really shouldn't do because whenever I think it just leads me to bad places that I don't want to go to…" my words became more and more rushed, until I didn't even understand them, and then I was crying again… Why did I cry so much?... Russia must think I'm so pathetic….

But as always, all he did was envelop me in a gentle hug and let me cry myself out on his shoulder, while he whispered comforting words to calm me down… Which after several minutes, I did.

"Matvey, I'm sorry… I shouldn't have tried to pry." He was still holding me.

I simply shook my head. He shouldn't apologize. I mean, I was the one who just had an emotional break down on him…

Everything was quiet for a while, until he pulled away, "Now, how about some tea? I find it helps one to calm down?"

I simply nodded, before looking up, "Yea… that would be nice.."

"Alright, Matvey." He stood, then helped me to my feet, which was slightly unnecessary, but I didn't really mind, and started heading back to the kitchen. I followed a couple steps behind him, and as we walked, I ran my fingers lightly along the sides of the walls. When we rounded the corner into the kitchen, he went first to the table and pulled out the chair for me to sit, which I did. Honestly… I felt like a child who wasn't trusted to do anything for myself for fear I would break… Which I guess I was…

Then he went about getting the tea ready. I watched him absentmindedly as he did so, not really paying attention, but following his every move at the same time.. It felt almost like I was dreaming.

While the water for the tea boiled, we sat in relatively comfortable silence. Neither really wanting to break it, though both knowing eventually it had to happen.

As we sat, I thought about everything. Just everything. Which brought me to the conclusion that I needed to tell him… I had just opened my mouth to say something when the tea pot whistled its shrill cry, and Russia went to retrieve it. As he poured it for us, I mulled over what I wanted to say… but I couldn't find the strength to bring myself to talk; instead I laid my face down on the cool wooden table.

And so the silence continued unbroken. It made me uncomfortable, because now that I'd reached my little conclusion, the words were trying to force themselves up, and it felt like I would burst if I didn't let them out. But as much as much as I wanted to talk about it, there was an equally strong part of me that was opposed to it, and they were having a field day fighting each other…

Finally, I mustered a little courage from somewhere. Sitting up, "Russia?" as always, my voice came out weaker than I meant for it to.

He looked up from his untouched cup, "Da?"

I chewed my lip for a moment, and he watched me all the while, "I…" more lip chewing, "I uhm…" sighing, I closed my eyes and forced myself to talk, "I want to talk about it…" I knew he'd understand what 'it' was, and sure enough he did.

"Are you sure?" no I wasn't sure…

I just nodded, taking a deep breath, I once again forced my voice to work, "Ok… uhm… I don't really know where to begin… so I guess…" I closed my eyes, and tried to put my thoughts in order. I knew it was too late to turn back now, but this was making me nauseous..

"I don't really want to give you my life story but… It all intertwines so much with what's wrong with me…"

"Matvey, nothing's wrong with…"

I cut him off, "Yes there is… now let me finish…" I shocked myself with the amount of venom in my voice, "I'm sorry," I quickly apologized. He only blinked, so I kept going, "Uhm… Well, You know Alfred and I are brothers… Before all those European nations started coming over, we were best friends, and did almost everything together… Now he doesn't remember who I am half the time. Then of course France took me. That wasn't so bad, if anything it was pretty good. Despite popular belief, he's a pretty good dad… Then of course Britain took me. I had hoped that Papa would fight to get me back but… you know. And now he doesn't remember me either."

I felt tears prick my eyes, but even if I wanted to, I couldn't stop now.. "So anyway, I went to live with Britain, and things were good for a while. Then he started getting…I don't know… worse. He would yell at me, tell me I was nothing compared to my brother, and how I would never amount to anything… then he started going out every night and coming home drunker and drunker and… He would confuse me with Alfred.." I took another deep breath, "And so I learned to avoid him when he got like that, because he could get… violent."

I was looking down at the table, but I could see Russia's hands tense from my peripheral vision as it clicked what I meant. I was quiet a moment before I was able to continue, "Anyway… So one night he comes home, and usually if I got out of the way quick enough nothing would happen, but this time he sought me out.. And he cornered me, and…" the words cut off in my throat… I couldn't do this, I just couldn't... but I had to… But… Did I really want to go here?.. What would Russia think?...

I took yet another deep breath, and looked up at him, but he was looking back at me with such intensity that I couldn't meet his gaze, so I focused on his tea cup, "Please.." it came out a whisper, "If I tell you, you can't… you can't think differently about me… ok?" I knew it sounded like begging… probably because it was.

"Matvey," He reached out and took my hand, squeezing gently "I promise that no matter what it is, I will never view you any differently…"

I nodded, and looked back down. "Ok…" once again, I chewed on my lip, a new nervous habit I suppose, before finally, "So… he cornered me… and… and… and…" and then just as quickly as I had thought this was a good idea, I decided it was bad. I quickly drew my hand away from his, and buried my faces in my hands, shaking my head back and forth "Nonononononono, I'm sorry, I can't.. I just can't." and then, my English failed me, and I started blathering on and on in French…

Russia was by my side in an instant, and I was once again surrounded in his arms, sobbing onto his shoulder, and he was once again whispering soothing words, and rubbing my back. For a moment I almost let myself feel better, until I realized how wrong it all seemed…

I pushed him away from me with a strength I didn't know I had. Sending him stumbling almost to the other side of the room, and upsetting the chair I was sitting in, sending me toppling to the floor. I felt a sharp pain in my wrist, and yelped out, clutching it, and curling myself around it.

"Matvey are you…" he was tried to rush towards me, but I screamed

"Stay away!" I retreated farther away, "Why do you even care? I'm just so disgusting! Ugly, forgettable, broken, _**used!**_." The last word came out sounding bitter. And I knew then and there he had put two and two together.

He was quiet for a moment, before once again trying to approach. This time I let him.

"He forced you, didn't he?" he murmured.

I could only nod.

"More than once?"

I didn't want to answer, but my hesitation was answer enough. And I curled up tighter, feeling even worse than before. Why had I started this?

But instead of kicking me out of his house, or even just leaving me there to figure out he didn't want me any more by myself, he knelt in front of me, and pulled me into his lap. "I swear Matvey, that is anyone ever, _ever, _even _looks _at you in a way you don't like, I will end them for you.." it came out a growl, and I was shocked by how serious he sounded. I let myself peek up at him.

He gently brushed some stray locks behind my ear, before taking my wrist. "Now let me have a look…" I winced even though he barely touched it. "It's broken… Come on, let's get this fixed up, da?"

xXxXxXxXxXx

It took him about twenty minute to bind my wrist, and then carried me back to my room. And despite my protests, he stayed by my side the rest of the day, and into the night, and I realized that like every night this week, he was going to stay with me all night… It made me feel horrible; I knew that he had barely slept this week because he'd been preoccupied with keeping watch over me..

"Russia…" my voice was hoarse from so much crying…

"Da?" he looked up from his book at me.

"Please… don't stay up with me tonight…"

He seemed startled, "But.. why?"

"Because… you need sleep just as much as I do… so please…"

He was quiet for a minute, "As you wish… but if at any time you need me, my bed room is at the end of this hall way… ok?"

I simply nodded, and he started to get up, "Wait!"

He looked back at me.

"I… could you stay with me until I fall asleep?... Please?..." _God, I was so weak… _

He smiled softly, and settled back into his chair. "Of course Matvey. Of course."

xXxXxXxXxXx

_I felt like I was floating in a room completely void of every sense… there was no light; there was no sound, there was nothing. It was like I was weightless. It felt… relaxing. I was content to float here forever… _

_And then I felt something lurk against this placid place. It was dark and sinister… Evil… I felt myself shiver in revulsion. I no longer felt like I was floating in air, but sinking into something thick and slimy… It was suffocating. I was afraid that if I breathed in, I would drown on this disgusting… _

"_Matthew… Oh Matthew~.." oh god… that voice… like poisoned wine… _

_I felt something brush up against me, but couldn't turn to look, I was frozen… all was quiet for a long time, and I thought maybe it was gone… and then_

_It brushed against me again, this time to my left "Did you really think you could get away?" it chuckled. A low, dark, horrible chuckle. Every vile emotion that people could fill washed over me. It made me want to claw out my eardrums, and throw up at the same time…_

"_My dear boy, it will never be that easy." Now it was above me... right above me… but I couldn't see anything but an oiler black smudge against the already black background… and that voice wasn't human… oh god what was this thing…_

"_I'll admit, I thought that your Russian boy toy might get rid of me," it was to my left again… I felt what I guessed was a tail tickle my side… I tried to shy away, but I still couldn't move my body… _

"_But luckily, your fear is greater than his influence. I mean, you were so scared that you couldn't even tell him..~" underneath me.._

"_Face it Matthew.." to my right… _

"_You will never get rid of me.." it purred right in my ear… It's breathe was disgusting.. In all my years, I'd never smelled anything like this.. It was like death hidden behind roses… I wanted to scream. Every fiber of my being wanted to. But I was still frozen. WHY COULDN'T I MOVE? _

I jerked awake as a sharp pain erupted through me, and I realized that I must have rolled over on wrist. I lay there crumpled, and gasping for what seemed like forever, before I could open my eyes. But what I saw only made me want to shut them again.

The monster was everywhere. I knew it was just my imagination screwing with me, but he was _everywhere_. That sudden movement over there, that shadow over here, … I wanted to scream again, but I was still frozen. Only this time it wasn't because a dream commanded it, but because I was paralyzed by fear..

Panic, verging on hysteria gripped me, and I felt my heart rate quicken into an unhealthy _thumpthumpthumpthumpthump… _I was trembling uncontrollably. Oh god.. oh god.. oh god.. it was going to get me… it could be anywhere… An there was nothing I could do to stop it… I wanted to run, every instinct in my body told me to do so… but where would I go…?...

_Russia…_

But he was so far away… There was no way I could make it there with out _it _getting me… and besides, I couldn't get my body to move… I felt tears running down my face… and then I couldn't breathe again… why was I so weak?... So weak that I was terrified of some hidden thing… A pitiful whimper escaped me, and the trembling stopped… I froze again. Oh god what if it heard me?...

I had to get out of here… I have to get out of here… I need to get out of here….

Slowly… slowly I forced myself to shift in the bed… But as I was about to put my feet n the ground a horrible thought came to mind.

_What if it's under the bed? Waiting to get me?..._

The thought alone was enough for me to jerk back into my bed, and bury myself under my covers… I lay there for what seemed like an eternity trembling, and trying to get my ragged sobs to stay quiet… and then I heard something creak, and I was a mess all over again…

It took several more minutes for me to rebuild my pathetic courage, and start trying to move again. This process repeated several times, and finally I was so hysterical that just forced myself out of bed.

And then I was running. I ran out of the room, bare feet thumping lightly against the frigid wooden floor, down the hallway. Everywhere, he was there. The shapeless, nameless terror of my nightmare.

And as I was about to suffocate in his hidden presence, I reached Russia's door, threw it open, rushed inside, and reclosed the door. As soon as it shut, the horror of the monster faded slightly.

In my own relief, I hadn't noticed that Russian had shot up in bed, and was staring at me, a small dagger in his hand. We looked at each other for a moment, before he replaced it in whatever hidden place he'd gotten it from. "Another Nightmare?" he murmured.

I could only nod my head and let out a small whimper.

He scooted over, and patted the place behind him on the bed. Hesitantly I walked forward, and climbed in bed with him. He draped the covers back over us and whispered, "Don't worry Matvey, whatever it was, I won't let it get you."

And I believed him.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: Wow... so this has to be the longest chapter, and I'm so proud of myself! I made the Princess bride reference again! Lol, please tell me someone caught it? Also, the name of this chapter is actually one of my favorite songs, and it just seemed to work ^^ **__**Anyways, R/R please?**_


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